In love with a memory
by kinky-chichi
Summary: Kyle returns to South Park after 3 years of mulling over the biggest mistake of his life, with the intentions of making things right. But SP has changed alot in his absense and his return triggers a chain reaction of disasters. Multi POV. some SLASH
1. Prologue

**Summery: **Kyle returns to South Park after 3 years of mulling over the biggest mistake of his life, with the intentions of making things right. But SP has changed a lot in his absence and his return triggers a chain reaction of disasters.

**Warnings: **Initial OOC. Multiple Points-Of-View. Slash Pairings. Swearing. Possible drug use and violence.

**AN: **This is my first time attempting a serious piece of writing, so I am very new at this. I would appreciate it if you could keep this in mind whilst reading this and offer any appropriate Constructive Criticism and input at the end in your review. I hope you enjoy this, it's going to be a very long story. Please review.

**Prologue: **

**Kyle **

Rushing into my dorm room, I slam the door shut and retrieve the flattened packing boxes from where they are leaning up against the wall.

I can't stand it anymore! I've got to get out of here.

I had convinced myself over the months that this is just a phase, to try and ignore it and keep persevering, but the feeling keeps coming back, and this time it's hit me like a wall.

Suddenly I'm filled with this terrible dread, like I'm knowingly walking into a trap, a future I don't want to live.

Having talked with the student councillor about my feelings on a number of occasions, he was always understanding, but he was also addiment in not letting me make a mistake I'd regret.

I had just been in his office earlier, telling him I'm leaving. He didn't try to talk me out of it, I think he'd seen it coming. After a long silence he announced that he would be able to organise for me to take a year off from school and still be able to return to my course where I'd left off. I would probably have to go over a few parts again and resit a few tests, but I wouldn't have to start all over again. Just in case I changed my mind he says. I was grateful for that, but I didn't tell him I never planned on coming back. I think he knew. Plus the knowledge that I could return would possibly help appease my mother's wrath upon hearing I've dropped out. She's going to kill me. But I just had to.

I don't want to be a doctor.

I thought perhaps I had. Everyone else was so keen to see me become one, especially my mother, seeing as I'd refused to become a lawyer. They pushed me to get the best grades possible, to achieve _my_ goal. ….and I let them push. I had needed some direction, I was lost.

And I may still be lost, but I know now that I do not want to go forward anymore. Each step I take, each day that goes by, brings me closer to accepting a future I do not care for.

Ahead I can see myself graduating Uni and becoming a doctor, probably marrying Milly and moving into a city apartment with her. Eventually having kids and moving to some country town practice, where I'd be stuck working a job I have no passion for, with a wife I do not love, in a town I do not know. And with kids. Kids?

I can pretend all I want. But I would never last it out.

And so I did what I had to.

I dumped Milly this morning. The same as I had with all the rest of them over the years. All the other girls. All the other relationships. I ended them all.

Truthfully I really did care for Milly. I knew the moment I met her that she was something special, and I tried hard to make it work. I tried so very hard, but….and it's stupid…..but there was something missing, and it's something I need. I've unconsciously searched for it in every relationship I've started over the last 3 years, but I've never found it.

I need a best friend.

I had made good friends in school after moving here when I was 17, but not a best friend. They had already established all their relationships when I moved in, and I simply had to make my way around in between them. They were great friends don't get me wrong, I had fun with them, but….I was still always second best with everyone. I was no ones first choice. No ones first thought. And I began to feel alone.

When high school was finished I fell out of contact with all those friends. I don't suppose they mind much. I made new friends here at Uni, but it still wasn't the same. There was still no one here for me. And that's when I began to miss him.

Stan Marsh.

And despite what he did….that night, the night I ran away from him, I would often find myself wondering what my life would be like now if I'd never left. If we'd never moved away? I missed what we had together so much. It had been something uniquely_ us _and I know now that I'm not going to find it anywhere else, not from anyone else but him.

Contentment.

Stan may well have had different feelings than I'd ever like to admit, and he may hate me now for leaving. But….I just have to know.

Would I ever be able to find my happiness again? Is it waiting for me by his side where I left it last? Is he what's missing? I made my mistake, I let fear get in the way and destroy the best thing I ever had going for me.

Best friends forever, I snort. Forever. What a crock.

He's probably completely moved on by now. He probably doesn't even think of me anymore. Though I can't help but secretly hope I'm wrong. And if I know Stan, and I do, he'll be extremely pissed at me, he'll want to hate me….but, everything will turn out alright in the end. It always does with us. It always does….but that doesn't make me any less scared to face it.

It can't be helped though. I simply can't let myself walk down this path any longer, towards this future I have no heart for. I have to get out of here. And there's not much of a choice for it.

I can't stay here with my mother any longer. She's too attached to this future she has ready for me. Too attached to Milly. Too attached to her dream of what her grandchildren will look like. She'd have me back at school and back with Milly before the week is out, and knowing myself I probably wouldn't put up much of a fight either.

It's now or never. The ball's already rolling. This is my last bid for _my_ future, and I'm leaving all this behind. I'm going to find some answers. I'm going to find my happiness. I just have to make the move.

Ready or not.

I pick up my cell phone and call my dads number.

Here I come.


	2. Road Signs

**AN:** This kinda seems like a whole lot of rambling on about nothing here, even to me sometimes. But I felt it all needed to be said to set the scene for this story and give you an idea of who these characters are now and what their relationships are. The next chapter will be getting right into it, I promise.

**Road Signs:**

**Stan**

Jerking my head up, I'm startled from my light slumber by a violent vibrating in my jeans pocket.

I have no idea how long I was out for. It could have been only moments, or it could have been a good few minutes. Which is probably more likely I think, as I realise that my mouth had begun to drop open. I clamp it shut again and look around nervously at the other students around me, as they watch me fumble around trying to get my phone out of my impossibly tight jeans.

Looking down at my phone, the outside screen tells me that it's Kenny calling. I scowl inwardly as I quickly half flip it open before snapping it shut again, effectively hanging up on him. He knew I was in class, the bum, I very well couldn't answer it. The professor is giving me a death glare as it is.

I quickly stow my phone out of sight under the desk, but keep it clasped in my hands all the same. The professor turns his attention away from me and continues to explain…whatever it is he was explaining whilst I was asleep, something about fatigue, respiratory problems and the importance of knowing CPR. I'm not really interested.

Here it comes.

Sure enough, not 30 seconds later, my phone vibrates again once, causing those sitting near me to give me annoyed looks. It's definitely not the first time I've wished that my phone had a more silent vibrate. Stupid arse expensive piece of crap.

Of course it's a message from Kenny, I know before even looking. I'm going to abuse him later, he called up deliberately just to be annoying. He's going to pay for that one.

But upon reading the message my anger fades.

It's short and sweet, as it always is. "Home 10:40. Shop 4:30. Baseball 6:00. Bar 01:00". To anyone else this would make just about no sense, unless I told them that it was just Kenny letting me know his daily schedule like he always does. And at that point they'd probably act out one of those "Aawwwwh, How sweeeet!" moments, putting their hands on their heart and batting their eyelashes mockingly. Or just start to back away slowly….but it's not really like that. I know the real purpose for the daily Kenny update.

He's a closet greenie.

I can hardly believe it's true sometimes. It makes me laugh just thinking about it. Even if he is a male model, he has always stayed pure red-heck hick on the inside… except for this one little secret part that I alone get to witness daily. It's a constant source of amusement for me.

He feels so damn guilty whenever he drives anywhere alone in his car, like he's single handedly creating this 'climate change' problem by doing so. He always tries to give lifts to at least one other person he knows. ….but he doesn't go as far as to message them all every single day. That's just something between me and him. I still don't have my own car you see, so it's just a little ritual that's developed out of necessity. I mean, what else would you expect from best friends.

I'm not going to reply, I decide. For one, I'm not going to chance it with the professor eyeing me again. I can just hear him thinking 'Go On Marsh! give it a try, I dare you. Press those buttons. I know you want to' and I'm not going to give him more reasons to try and fail me. The arse!

And two, Kenny knows that if I don't reply that means I'm not meeting up with him anytime for a ride. No need to waste credit. Our schedules just don't match up well today. I know Kenny would have me wait around half an hour after classes today just so he can drop me home on his way to Baseball practice, but I really just can't be stuffed today. I can walk home in less than half an hour anyway. Kenny and his guilt trips, I swear.

I don't know how he does it, always on the move, working 2 jobs and going to Baseball practice after a night like that. I'm absolutely stuffed today, and my hangover is still lingering. After all, we had been partying in Denver only 8 hours ago now!

We had been back in the shared dorm over there for the weekend, Kenny going off with his agent to meet a few perspective clients, and I doing one of those increasingly rare hand modelling shoots. Kenny had got me into that job.

'The Discovery' of Kenny McCormick was made during senior year back in high school by this modelling agent from the city. I never really found out how they met, but straight after graduation Kenny practically disappeared off into this modelling world of his. He didn't bother continuing with schooling at all. I suppose he was never all that good at school anyway. This was his big break.

A few months later I was finally introduced to this infamous agent of Kenny's. Instantly upon setting eyes on my hands, she declared that they were the most gorgeous, masculine hands she had ever come across and that I simply must do some modelling work for her. I had never really noticed that my hands were any better than anyone else's, and I was blissfully unaware that such a thing as 'hand models' even existed. But disregarding that, I jumped at the chance.

Before I knew it, both Kenny and I were travelling into the City for shoots. Kenny always had more shoots than me of course, I mean, who can argue, it's a fact that there's more demand for a gorgeous face and chiselled body than there is for a nice pair of hands. We were provided with our own 'dorm' to share between us 6 models by the agency, and it's slowly turned into our second home. And we get payed plenty to boot! It was like a dream come true for two best friends from a small mountain town. That was almost a year ago. One crazy arse year ago.

Last night in Denver we had taken the opportunity to go out on the city with friends, and boy did we go out! I mean I know Denver isn't all the great, we relish it when we get to fly out and stay in other cities, but it can still be a fairly hot town. It beats South Park anyways.

We weren't going to be back there for a while, well I wasn't…because I have exams coming up soon, so we wanted to make our last night there in a while one to remember.

If I had have been sober there's no way I would have let us drive home last night. I laugh to myself. Kenny still likes living on the edge every now and then. But then again, I don't think that he was all that hammered last night anyways. He doesn't seem to be in the partying mood much these days, and I have no idea why. Maybe he's just growing out of it. I don't know. I hope not.

I am jolted back into reality by the loud shuffling of chairs and books all around me. Everyone is leaving. Class is over. Dear god, I learnt absolutely nothing today.

Damn. I can't afford to go on like this any longer if I hope to pass a single class. We really shouldn't have gone out last night. But I insisted we could pull it off. It's times like this that I wish I hadn't opted for morning classes. Usually I am a morning person, up and about as soon as the sun is if not before, but not today.

Groaning, I get to my feet and gather up my unopened books, making to leave the now almost empty class room.

-

The constant drum of my feet on the pavement is somewhat soothing. And I find myself becoming tired and lethargic again. One step after another, almost home.

It wasn't hard to make myself concentrate in my other class today, because it was my Prac cooking class. Not only is this my favourite class, but I also couldn't let my mind wander lest I cut myself again, something I can't really afford to do anymore if I hope to keep my hand model job. There's only so much they can touch up digitally before they get annoyed and find a new model. My hopes of being a chef and a hand model aren't really all that compatible, I've realised.

Last year I had decided to take a number of short courses here at South Park Community College after I had finished high school…just because…I was indecisive. I have no idea what I want to do for the rest of my life. And I was bored. And my parents pushed me to at least do _something._

So I took up a chefs course, because I enjoy cooking, as well as a Physical Trainer class, which I'm continuing to the highest level because it's fun, despite the theory. I hate the theory, especially when Clyde skips on it like today, the stupid lazy arse. I'm hung over and _I_ still attend.

Uh. Finally I'm here. That was the longest walk home ever.

I enter in the front door of my family home and walk up the stairs to my room. It's the same room I've had all my life, and I've never really changed it much.

It's not like I spend that much time here anymore, in between the city dorm and Kenny's place, there's not much of a point for it. It kind of feels like just a place where I'm currently storing my things, and sleeping when I have to, but all the same…I feel a sense of nostalgia here, and I don't want to break it. There are so many memories here. Old memories, almost forgotten. They are painful memories now, but I'm still not quite ready to let them go. So I keep my room unchanged, and keep those memories here.

Lying down on my bed I stare up at the ceiling.

Yawning, I stretch and try to relax, but I don't really feel comfortable sleeping here anymore. I briefly wonder if I could let myself in at Kenny's flat and nap there instead, but I dismiss the thought immediately because it's ludicrous. What kind of pussy can't even sleep in his own bedroom alone?

Closing my eyes, I try to block out my room. Even that smudge on the ceiling has memories attached to it, and they're memories I don't have the energy to think about right now. I rarely let myself dwell on such things, and I'm not going to start again now. All of that is in the past and that's where it's going to stay.

The present is where I live, here where I have class, and my social life, my hand modelling gigs, and Kenny. Kenny and I live for the now and make our own memories. I have enough on my mind without bringing up all that old crap.

Trying to distract myself I decide to force myself to think of other things.

My plans for tonight, I think I'll end up dropping round Kenny's place now anyway. I don't want to stay here if I can help it. I'll walk round there after he gets back from practice. This leads to thoughts of hockey practice, which then makes me think of our casual basketball games with friends, what Token, Butters and Tweek are up to lately. When we're going to catch up next. Who might be having the next New Year's party. How Wendy's doing. Whether that hot friend of hers is still single. How long it's been since I've had a successful relationship. Whether I want a relationship. Relationships in general. Love.

I blink my eyes open and look at my alarm clock. I was asleep for nearly 3 hours, Kenny's home by now. I try to remember what I've dreamt about but the last dregs of memory slip away before I can grab a hold of one, and within seconds I've lost it completely. Oh well….can't have been that important. You're meant to remember important dreams right?

Swinging myself out of bed I walk downstairs, saying a brief 'hi' and 'bye' to my mom before leaving the house.

Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I message Kenny. "I'm comin round ur place k. b there soon."

The walk to Kenny's place takes just over 10 minutes, so I'm there in no time. Sticking my key in the lock I let myself in.

Immediately upon opening the door I spot Kenny sitting on the couch playing play-station. He smiles at me as I enter, but he doesn't take his eyes or his concentration off the game he's playing.

He has obviously just taken a shower as his shaggy blond hair is still damp and he is now wearing his neat black uniform, ready to go to work in an hour. He may be an organised person like that, but god is he a disgusting slob at home!? I think to myself, noting the state of the room around us. Then I smile guiltily when I realise that half of this mess was made by me.

"Want to play two-player!?" Kenny asks holding out the other controller to me as I slump onto the couch next to him, pushing an empty pizza box off the arm rest.

"Na, not tonight Ken, I'm too out of it." I reply, yawning as I recline out and make myself comfortable.

"Well you're no fun" Kenny pouts, chucking the controller into my chest.

"Oof. What? There's no point anyway. You always beat me." I say, tossing the controller back at him.

He flashes a mischievous, cocky grin at me, indicating that he agrees, and I scowl at him in mock annoyance.

Kenny presses the pause button on the controller again and resumes playing. I watch him for a while before getting bored. I begin to fidget on the couch, because my comfy spot really isn't all that comfy at all. This piece of crap couch has always been lumpy as hell. Finally I opt to get up and….find something to do. Whatever happened to me feeling tired, I don't know.

I look around the room and decide I'd better clean up a bit, at least some of my mess. I bend down and pick up all the trash I can see until my arms are so full of empty chip packets and beer cans that I have to walk into the small kitchen to find the bin. When I return to the lounge I finish with all the obvious rubbish and begin picking up all the magazines strewn over the floor and pile them onto the coffee table. I'm about to pick up a copy of playboy.

"Aarghhh!" Kenny yells unexpectedly, startling me. "STAN! Would you stop cleaning up!? It's driving me insane!" he reels on me, teeth gritted.

I find myself stunned. What the hell? Kenny's always so laid back. He never yells at me.

"Just sit down and stop being such a fucking woman!" he demands.

I obey and seat myself back on the couch, still staring at him.

He seems to realise how shocked I am, as he suddenly smiles guiltily and looks down at the floor. "Sorry Stan. I didn't mean to snap, but seriously dude, you gotta stop with the cleaning. This is still my place and you're technically my guest, I'm not going to have you cleaning!" He exclaims.

"Sorry" I breath, still not fully recovered. "I just though… I wanted to clean up. I."

"Since when do you like cleaning dude? What the fuck? What's up!? You really are the biggest girl I know these days" he finishes, looking at me for a long while, and I can't help myself as his statement sinks into my head.

"….i am not" I pout out and a big smile cracks across Kenny's face before he laughs and punches me in the arm.

"You are too." He replies, giving me a look that says the conversation stops there. Leave it.

He picks up his controller again and I notice that the screen is flashing with a big red "GAME OVER" Oh. Well that's probably half the reason why he snapped at me, because he lost the game and was pissed.

I breathe a little sigh of relief and fish my phone out of my pocket to take my mind off things. I fiddle around with it for a few minutes, adjusting settings, deleting old messages, viewing photos. But it doesn't entertain me for long and I pocket it again.

It's then that I spot Kenny's phone sitting on the coffee table.

I go to make a move for it but stop in my tracks as it seems like Kenny just started to lung as if to stop me. I look at him dead in the eyes for a moment as he leans back in his seat again, wondering why in hell he wouldn't want me to look at his phone. We look at each others phones all the time, what's he hiding?

"Can I look through your phone for a second?" I ask, keeping my eyes on Kenny.

He's gone back to his game again "yeah sure, whatever" he says, and it seems to me that he's trying to look casual now, as if he never even moved an inch toward his phone.

I lean forward again and grab it off the table.

Going straight into messages to have a belief look, I try to see if I can find what he's hiding. But there's nothing too suspicious. I scroll down, reading through the recent messages.

There's some from a few of the guys, totally routine looking stuff, some from Token, two from Butters, one from Clyde, all about nothing in particular. But the majority of them are from chicks he's been talking dirty to. Mummy-long-legs, Brazilian, Runway. Kenny is one of those guys who gives all his girls secret code names to remember them all by. I'm sure half of them wouldn't be too pleased if they knew.

CaneSucker, Pamela, Double-plunger, Cannylicker, Burger, Angel, Sexy-bunns.

And upon reading that name I reel away from the phone in disgust. I know who that is and I really didn't need that reminder.

Kenny snorts beside me, but doesn't look away from the screen. "Craig?" he asks, already knowing.

"dude, it's just sick. Do you have to?"

"well don't read through my messages then. I can't help it if he has a hot arse!" he says, turning and grinning at me.

I shake my head in disgust and quickly click out of messages and go to his phone numbers instead. Anything to get away from the subject of Craig/sex. Anything.

I spend a few more minutes just casually browsing though all the names in his list, laughing at a few and recognising most of them. Then I get to one that puzzles me. I have no idea who it is, but I remember it first showed up on the list about a year ago now. Bob. Who the fuck is Bob? We don't know a Bob.

I check in recent calls, and there he is again. Bob. Kenny spoke with him a week ago, and 2 months ago, and 1 month before that.

"Who the Hell is Bob!?" I ask, looking up at Kenny and trying to seem interested but still casual.

Kenny steals a look at me out of the corner of his eye before turning his attention back to the game. "just a guy I know." He states simply. "You've never met him" he adds after a moment and then goes silent.

I look back down at the name again. Bob. Probably just another one of his boy….crushes or something, I decide, snapping the phone shut now and placing it back on the table. Well that was entertaining. I sigh loudly and go back to watching Kenny play.

The minutes pass and I don't know if I'm imagining it now or what, but Kenny seems to be getting steadily more irritated as time goes by. Whether it's at the game or at me, I don't know. I just really don't want to be snapped at again.

"You had dinner yet?" I ask quietly.

"Nup." Kenny replies.

"I'll fix us something." I say, getting up and walking to the kitchen.

"In less than 25 minutes!?" Kenny yells sceptically from the couch and I poke my head back around the corner.

"Well yeah, just something quick. It's not as if you have any gourmet ingredients in this house anyway." I say with a laugh and turn back into the kitchen.

"Bloody Woman" I hear Kenny say quietly from the couch and I turn back into the lounge, throwing a tea spoon at him and hitting him in the shoulder. "HEY!" I hear him scream in protest as I return to the kitchen again.

Now. What to eat?

I take a look in the fridge.

Just about the only raw ingredients in Kenny's kitchen are what's left over from other times I've made meals here, and this meagre amount really isn't that helpful, seeing as half of it is going rotten and Kenny hasn't thrown anything out in weeks. I cringe and walk over to the pantry instead.

It's filled with lots and lots of chips and soups. Yep….not much else. Good-o. Wait! I rush back over to the fridge. YES! Cheese! Grabbing it I return to the pantry.

Searching through the multitude of cans and gars I finally find it. Salsa! I'm Making Nachos and Cheese! It's about my best option at the moment and I haven't made that in ages, as simple as it is. I know Kenny loves it.

Kenny always has plenty of bags of nachos, he just would never think to do something as simple as add cheese and salsa and put it in the oven himself. It probably never crossed his mind to even check for the ingredients in his own kitchen. Pretty pathetic, but hey, that's Kenny. I think he'd rather just eat processed packaged pre-made foods anyways. Not because they taste any good a tall….he admits they're disgusting. He's just that lazy. '…too busy. Would rather spend my spare time doing better things than cooking' he says. Yeah, playing video games- much better use of time, I scoff.

Once I've found a dish, laid out all the ingredients in it and put it in the oven, I return to Kenny's side for a few minutes while it cooks.

When I sit back down on the couch he turns to me and gives me a weird look. "What about dinner?" he asks, sounding a little bit annoyed and disappointed.

"It's in the oven." I say simply, trying my hardest not to smile at all.

"Oh." He says and returns to his game.

I spend the next few minutes watching him, not the game, but him. I'm waiting for his reaction when he realises.

It takes a couple of minutes, but finally I see his nostrils flare. Suddenly his attention isn't on the game anymore and he takes in a number of short quick breaths in through his nose. And then his eyes go wide. Yep, he's got it.

Kenny springs over the back of the couch and sprints into the kitchen where I can imagine he's squatting in front of the oven. And then I hear him yell. "NACHOS!!!? You GOD Stan! You fucking God!"

Smiling to myself I turn around and see he's in the doorway of the kitchen now. "Come on, get them out already!" he wines, bouncing a little, and I laugh.

"They're not quite ready yet, they need to be nice and crispy, not just melted."

"I don't care! Get them out. I only have 10 minutes Stan!" Kenny rebuffs, back in the kitchen already.

"Okay, okay. But it's not like you haven't eaten a meal in less than 10 minutes before" I chide, grabbing the dish out of the oven and setting it on a hot-mat.

We spend the next 10 minutes burning our fingers and stuffing our faces, and my only regret is that we had no sour-cream.

Kenny rushes around the house for another few minutes before racing out the door because he's going to be late for work. "Hurry the hell up Stan!" he yells from outside.

Walking over to the open front door, I look down to the car park below the units and see that he's already sitting in his car. I lean up against the door frame and he sticks his head out the drivers window to glare at me.

"Don't worry about driving me home, you just go. I'll lock up here and walk home." I yell out to him.

"You sure?" he asks and I nod. I know that skipping the detour to my house will shave a few minutes off his drive.

"But Stanney….it's too Dark for you to walk home all on your own, I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you" Kenny coos with a mock look of worry on his face, and then laughs.

"Piss off. I can take care of myself. I'm not a girl." I retort, annoyed, but smiling.

"Then stop acting like one. And don't you dare try to clean up while I'm out." Kenny warns. "I'm totally creeped out by this new development of yours" he adds, looking stern.

We simply glare at each other for a few moments before I smile again. "You're going to be 10 minutes late now" I inform him casually.

"Oh Shit!" Kenny yells, flicking the engine on and reversing back out of his spot. Slamming on the brakes, he give me a quick "Later dude" before putting the car into first and spinning out of the car park and down the street.

I stay standing in the open doorway until I hear him turn the far corner and then I retreat back into the warmth of the house.

I know how much Kenny doesn't want to loose his new bar tender job, especially seeing as he's only had it for one month now…since he turned 21. He had been wanting that job down the club for years now. I really should have put more effort into making sure he wasn't going to be late. I should have pushed him out the door 5 minutes ago, but yeah.

He's been working way too much lately anyway. It's just not healthy.

Walking back into the kitchen again, I grab the empty nachos dish and place it in the sink before collecting up all the empty ingredients packets and throwing them in the rubbish. I'm not cleaning….i'm just packing up after myself. Yeah.

I lock the front door behind me as I leave and start my decent down the stairs into the dark of the street.

As I walk slowly down the lamp lit streets I ask myself if it's even worth a trip over to Kenny's house for only an hour, a rather uneventful hour, like tonight? But straight away I know the answer is yes. Even when Kenny is in a mood like he was tonight. The answer is still yes.

The answer will always be yes.

Kenny has work again all tomorrow morning, and I have 2 classes before 1pm, but after that we're going to hang out some more. Just like every other day we spend in South Park and not in the city. Class, work, and hanging around doing nothing much. It's so easy to let the days slip by like that. The weeks. The months. And then we complain that we don't have enough time to do anything anymore. It's ridiculous.

I walk up onto the front steps of the Marsh Family home but pause before opening the door, turning around to look at nothing in particular. The wind whips my dark fringe across my face and I brush it back and smile gruffly out into the night.

Yep. Tomorrow's going to be one more boring day.

In this crappy mountain town.

**-Kinky-Chichi**

**AN:** Yeah, you want to kill me now. I made Kenny and Stan Male Models. And totally OOC, especially Stan. Hahaha. I kinda hate myself for it, and laugh my head off about it at the same time. Don't worry, I have this all under control. I'm not loosing it. I swear.

**Please Review.**


	3. Peace Out

Peace Out:

**In Love with a Memory.**

**AN:** Sorry for the long delay, two things happened in quick succession which halted this story in its tracks. 1. I got stuck on a very tricky bit in the middle there and 2. Then a few days later my wacom tablet arrived and so I was drawing art like crazy! ...oh and then I hit a depression and didn't write OR draw _anything_ for about 2 weeks there. Soooo...sorry? aaahahaha. Hope this chapter somewhat makes up for that?

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. They make my day

**Peace Out:**

**Kenny**

Today has so far been a spectacularly uneventful day.

There have been no big dramas, no disasters, no confessions, and no breaking news. Nothing. Just work, plain boring retail work.

Not that I mind that much. I kind of treasure South Park when nothing much happens. When it's peaceful and lazy, which seems to be increasingly often these last few years.

I don't think it's that South Park has toned down the insanity level much at all. It's probably got more to do with the fact that I don't spend all that much time here any more, out on the streets making trouble.

Most of the time I do end up spending here I am working one of my two casual jobs. One here at Ski Zone, the other being night-shifts over at Ground Zero, the only decent night club in town. They built it a few years ago now and it has since become the central hub of youth activity here in South Park. It's a bit pathetic when you compare it to clubs in the big cities, but hey, it's all South Park has. So no one complains much.

Stan and I usually spend one or two nights there a week, when I'm not working.

I witness a lot of drama being a bar tender and still manage to end up getting myself involved in some of it here and there. But mostly I feel detached from it, like it doesn't particularly have much to do with me any more. And I pretty much like it this way.

This is not by any means the result of the town's lack of interest in me or anything. Stan and I are pretty much still hot shit here. It's just that I like to think of South Park as my refuge from the ridiculous world that is Male Modelling, as insane as that may sound. I like to be able to come back here after 2 weeks in the city and be able to relax and be myself again, swear all I want and wear hoodies and sweat pants again.

Because as much as I outwardly seem to fit into the modelling world and am for the most part happy to be the centre of attention, a model isn't who I am on the inside at all, and I hope that it never will be. That's the reason I enjoy returning to South Park so much. I am determined not to let this job change who I am.

Who I am now is a product of everything that has happened to me so far in this crummy little town, the good times and the bad, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

It took me a while to realise this. For so much of my childhood I couldn't wait to get away from this town. To get away from my dead beat Parents. Away from my bad family name. I had jumped at the chance to escape it.

Sure, being a male model is something I never would have seen myself as when I was younger. In fact I probably would have detested the thought, if I'd ever had reason to consider it. But it turned out to be the only ticket I was presented. I wasn't about to pass it up.

Once inside the modelling world I tried so very hard to fit in at first. I wanted to make this work for me. I wanted to prove to all these people here that I could make something of myself. That I, Kenny McCormick, could be successful. I wanted to prove them all wrong. But this new world turned out to be a lot more hostile and dangerous than I could ever have expected.

I've seen a lot of things in these last 3 years, a lot of thing I wish I didn't have to see. And I've seen people change. They loose their soul to that competitive world, and it's a painful thing to watch. To watch someone loose touch with everything they once were, everything you knew and loved them to be, is a frightening thing.

South Park seems like a peaceful little place in comparison, so simple, so pure. Sure a lot of fucked up things still happen here, and the residents are as crazy as ever, but this is how it's always been and it's not going to go changing. I'm relieved when I return for the working week back in South Park and find that it's exactly the way I left it a week before, or a month before that, or 5 years before that.

I know that you cannot run from change, or else I would have run away from the modelling world long ago, but still….it feels nice to be able to keep the things that are closest to your heart. And it hurts like hell to lose them.

Glancing at my wrist watch I see that it's now 25 minutes past 1pm, time to start packing up my gear. Stan will be waiting outside the store by now and I smirk to myself in the memory of why.

The Manager recently banned Stan from coming inside the store anymore while I'm in here working. She said she was sick of him hanging around and distracting me, which is fair enough really. As much as I love him, he starts to piss me off after a few hours too, especially in this store. He comments on the styles and designs of clothing and I don't want to hear that shit from him.

Five minutes later I walk out the front door of the store and sure enough Stan is leaning up against the rendered brick wall with his hands in his back pockets. He smiles at me as he looks up and I nod my head in the opposite direction and begin walking that way.

I wait for him to fall in step beside me before I elaborate. "I'm starving, just gonna grab a burger." I explain.

He nods once and I conclude that he must not be in a particularly talkative mood today. I don't mind. It reminds me of old times. Silences can be comfortable.

I wolf down my burger in less time than it took for them to make it for me, and within minutes we're off on our way again.

I don't think we really have a destination. We're just walking down the main street for something to do, trying to entertain ourselves, stopping and talking to people we know and chatting up girls. Gradually we'll make our way over to the sports complex and with any luck we'll find some of the guys there on the court. If not it's likely we'll just make our way back up here and I'll drive us back to my place. Watch some TV or something.

Whatever, I'm not fussed, it's just nice to have the full afternoon off to do nothing much.

It takes us less than an hour to get bored with the main street and soon we begin to meander our way though some of the back streets towards the sporting grounds, as I guessed we would. The walk only takes about five minutes and soon the Oval and Football field come into view at the end of the street.

As we get closer I can see that there are a number of guys on the field playing a small friendly game of football. I know a few of them but not all that well, so I'm not going to intrude on their game. I turn my head to the left towards the unfenced basketball court at the end of the field and see 3 male figures there. They're dribbling the ball, making passes and occasionally one of them shoots for the basket, but they're not really playing a game.

It takes me only a couple of seconds to recognise one of the guys as Craig. I'd recognise that butt anywhere, even from this distance. Sweet.

I turn to Stan and nod in the direction of the court. "Hey, Some of the guys are over there, what to go shoot a few?" I ask.

I know that basket ball was never really Stan's sport. He's more of a football and hockey guy, but it's not like there are any other options right now, and I know he wouldn't really consider butting in on the football game either, so I don't expect he'll object.

"Yeah sure." Stan answers with a smile and a new sparkle in his eye, and I know straight away that he's looking forward to a little competition.

As we stride around the field Stan's mood seems to have picked up considerably, and as a result so does mine. He and I always seem to get along just that little bit better when we're playing some sort of sport together. It feels like Stan is suddenly….I don't know, it's like he's suddenly free. Like he forgets about everything else but the game, letting go of everything that's weighing on his mind. It reminds me of when we were 15 and barely had a worry in the world.

As we draw closer to the court Craig is dribbling the ball towards the basket and I study the two other figures who are facing away from us talking now. I try to discern exactly who they are, but I am having trouble. One is wearing rather baggy grey sweatpants and a red sweater, the other a plain dark grey beanie, an auburn brown sweater and dark grey jeans. It would seem that no one came here dressed today to play anything serious, but then again, looking at Stan and I neither did we.

Within a few more meters I've recognised who the guy in the Red is, and it's confirmed as Stan calls out.

"Hey Clyde!" Stan yells a greeting beside me as we step onto the asphalt court. The shout causes Craig to turn our way, followed by the other two….Yep Clyde, and some guy I don-

I do a double take.

There's no mistaking those green eyes though. "Kyle!?" I exclaim and it comes out half statement, half query. My mind is suddenly awhirl with questions, but two stand out the loudest. What's he doing here? And where'd all his hair go!?

Kyle gives me a small smile and turns his eyes down to the ground, looking almost embarrassed, and in an instant my heart constricts in my chest in slight panic and I wheel around to find Stan.

He had come to a dead halt a few meters behind me and is now staring directly at Kyle, his face expressionless.

I have no idea what Stan might do. I ready myself to stop him just in case he lunges at Kyle with fists flying, it's quite a possibility. But it's more likely he'll run though. Or even cry. Oh god Stan, please don't cry here. I'd rather you throw a punch.

But he continues to simply stare at Kyle, unmoving, and when I turn back to Kyle I see that he is now staring right back at Stan, his face growing steadily more flushed.

"So?" Craig pipes in rather loudly in an attempt to break the uncomfortable silence.

The interruption seems to jolt Stan back to his senses and he looks down at the ground, his facial expression growing steadily more pained.

I wait to see what he's going to do. It's always been very much fight or flight with Stan. But his next move catches me completely off guard and I watch rather apprehensively as he takes a deep breath, looks up at the group, and comes to stand beside me, his face calm and emotionless.

I stare at Stan in slight disbelief. Is he….is he just going to act like nothing's wrong? Like he's forgotten or something? Like he's over it? This isn't the Stan I know.

Clyde gives a small cough before interrupting. "Kyle's just been telling us that he plans to stay here in South Park for a while, a few months, even a full year maybe? Isn't that right Kyle?" Clyde asks, almost gently, holding the basket ball in his hands now.

"Yeah." Kyle answers Clyde's question whilst looking at me. It seems he's deliberately not looking at Stan. "I'll be staying a while with my dad in our old house. Just needed a bit of a break from school and my Mother and….yeah, stuff." He finishes rather weakly, now looking down at the ground.

"Why didn't you tell me you where coming?" I blurt out, feeling a little exasperated. I don't really like being surprised like this. Perhaps if Stan wasn't here right now things would be going a lot more smoothly and I'd be excited to see Kyle. But I know that everyone here can feel the stifling awkwardness that's hanging in the air, and unbeknown to Stan everyone here knows exactly why it's so.

It was because of the kiss.

Kyle takes a breath and is about to answer when Stan cuts across him. "He didn't bother to tell anyone, did he!? So why would he tell you?" Stan grinds out, and I know that it's not really a question, it's an insult. It was meant to accuse, meant to hurt, and it's aimed more at Kyle than at me even though he is now stubbornly refusing to look Kyle's way. I can't believe him.

Kyle looks defeated and Craig, trying to lighten his mood again, begins telling him some funny stories of things he's missed over the last few years.

I had almost made a dire mistake just now, thank god Stan was too caught up in being angry at Kyle to think my reaction through. The situation is intimidating enough without adding the revelation of the fact that I have been in contact with Kyle numerous times over this past year in as well. I hate keeping secrets from Stan, and it's a secret that's just gotten a shit load bigger. But Kyle had asked me not to tell Stan that he had called after our first conversation, and I wasn't about to break that trust he'd put in me. Kyle had been a great friend to me up until the time he left town, perhaps even more so than Stan had been at that point, and I felt I owed him a little something for that.

So I had gladly been an ear for him whenever he needed to talk. This wasn't all that often, and was never about anything in particular. Not really about feelings or old memories or South Park at all, just about everyday things... which made me wonder why he had chosen me to be his listener. But after a while I figured it out.

Stan came up very rarely in our conversations, and I deliberately refrained from mentioning his name most of the time. I wasn't going to give Kyle that break. I just couldn't help my curiosity from getting the better of me…I needed to know where he stood. And through all of our talks together Kyle never once failed to show that he still cared for him, even if he was unaware of doing so. Therefore I wasn't all that surprised that Kyle was here now.

Still…I wish he had have told me first. I could have planned this better.

I continue to listen as Craig and Clyde fill Kyle in on the past he's missed, and I add in my opinion here and there, but mostly my attention is focused on the boy beside me. Stan is still standing there, not contributing to the conversation, and looking anywhere but at Kyle. Something Kyle has not failed to notice either.

Despite the calm face Stan has now put on, I can practically feel the emotion poring off him in waves. How is he still standing there not doing anything? This isn't Stan. He should have attacked Kyle already, jumped him with questions and accusations and painful words, cried even, anything. But he's just…standing there, ignoring this. Maybe I've lost him?

I turn my head slightly to glance at Stan, trying to keep my concern from showing on my face. As our eyes meet I see something inside him break, and all of a sudden he takes a step back, followed by another few.

"I have to go." Stan states before turning and pacing off.

"Stan!" I call out after him, and as he turns back towards me I fish my keys out of my pocket and chuck them to him. He's surprised but catches them with ease. "Take my car. You're going to be late if you plan to run all the way. I'll drop round and pick it up later, -k?" I offer gently, giving him a quick escape and letting him know I'll be there for him soon. He seems to pause, as if waiting to see if I won't change my mind now and decide to come with him instead. But I know that right now what he needs is to be alone, and I think he knows this too. He nods quickly and takes off again, this time at a slight jog, and we all watch him until he disappears from sight around the nearest street corner.

"He hates me doesn't he?" Kyle asks without warning, and the pain in his voice is apparent.

I turn back to the group and see that Craig and Clyde are now looking considerably more uncomfortable, glancing at Kyle with uneasy looks. No one answers him.

I honestly don't know how to answer him. I don't know how Stan feels. I know how he felt nearly 3 years ago now. I sat with him through all that. Through the tears and the depression and the rage, I tried to help. I tried my hardest for a long time to make him smile again, and it was the toughest thing I've ever fought for. But finally I got that smile back, and I resent Kyle a little now for being able to take it in the first place.

I can't say I completely blame him though.

A few more uneasy minutes of conversation pass before Craig looks down at his watch.

"Well, we'd best get going now." Craig comments, giving Clyde a look and indicating it's time to leave. "It was nice to see you again Kyle." He adds, handing Kyle the Basket ball and giving him a slap on the shoulder.

"Yeah Kyle, It's great to hear you'll be back for a while. We'll have to catch up again soon!" Clyde smiles and gives a wave which Kyle and I return. "Later."

We stand in silence watching Craig and Clyde's retreating backs for a moment before I see Kyle turn beside me and walk off. I swivel on the spot just in time to see him taking a seat rather unceremoniously on the grassy ridge that lies between the court and the adjacent gravel car park, hanging his head as he does so.

He looks so worn. He doesn't look a thing like the colourful, outspoken, fun little red head nerd I knew him to be at age 17, not in the slightest. My heart clenches slightly and then drops. Oh Kyle.

I walk up to stand in front of him, at the bottom of the slight incline, and he looks up at me and smiles through sad eyes. We look each other up and down and I note again the plain grey jeans, the auburn sweater with a white collar folding over the neckline and the grey unadorned beanie. All together it's a fairly stylish and well put together getup. But it's just not...Kyle.

"You look good." Kyle states inclining his head towards my outfit and smirking. My clothes are fairly low key, I have no desire to stand out in South Park, but they are still designer and obviously Kyle can tell.

"You look like shit." I reply simply and Kyle shrugs in response, lowering his eyes to the ground again. His smirk fades, but I can tell I haven't offended him. "What are you doing here Kyle?" I push again.

"I told you. I simply needed a break from my life, from school, from my mother, my girlfriend. Just from everything. I just need to take a step back to clear my head. Okay?" He finishes, looking up at me and begging me to accept that answer with pleading eyes. Those eyes that have always been so easy to read.

I don't believe a word he's saying.

"Yeah right." I scoff "You've come back to South Park to _clear your head_!? I don't think so." I add with an eyebrow raised.

"It's true!" Kyle exclaims defiantly, seeming suddenly younger and a lot fierier.

"Yeah Yeah, Okay, I believe you." I resign, flopping myself down on the sunlit grass next to him. The last thing I want to do right now is get into an argument, even if it means lying.

He frowns back, but it fades quickly enough, leaving us simply sitting there gazing at each other. And it's in this moment that I rediscover with some delight that tiny rim of hazel surrounding the pupils of Kyle's otherwise green eyes. Those eyes that are the one outward thing that remains distinctly 'Kyle'.

As a smile starts to creep across my face Kyle begins to smile back, but for a soon to be obviously different reason.

"So, what's with the clothes?" He asks suddenly with a laugh. But I can tell he's genuinely curious.

I smirk back. "What's up with the beanie?" I retort, grabbing it and ripping it off.

I almost immediately regret the move, even though I had been expecting exactly what I saw. I feel my face fall involuntarily as I eye the very cropped brownish-red head of hair. I had been expecting it, but I'm not sure if I was exactly ready for it.

No more curls.

Kyle speaks up before I can manage to gather any words. "I haven't let my curls grow for a while now." He states, taking the beanie from my hands and pulling it back over his short hair.

"...W-Why not?" I struggle to ask. Confused. And he shrugs again.

"You never answered my question. What's with this?" he asks, plucking at my designer hoodie.

"Uh...well. The last few years I've been doing a bit of modelling, so naturally"

"Wait, wait!" Kyle butts in. "You're telling me...You're a Model?" he asks, trying to keep a straight face, but not succeeding.

"Yeah, I am..." I confirm as Kyle's burst of laughter hits me in the face. "I know, I know, what the fuck right!? But yeah...it's easy money." I finish and shrug as Kyle's laughter ebbs away. Why do I suddenly feel so embarrassed?

He continues to stare at me, and as the grin on his face grows larger and larger I can't help but start to smirk myself at the absurdity. Kyle's shoulders begin to convulse in silent laughter causing me to let out a snort and within seconds we're both doubled over on the grass in roaring laughter.

It takes us a few minutes to settle down and catch our breaths. Now laying flat on my back staring up at the sky, I smile at the clouds passing by because even though the shit has suddenly hit the fan today and all hell is likely to break loose, I can sigh in relief because Kyle is still Kyle. He may look different on the outside, and he may be a little worn on the inside, but I know now that he is still the very same Kyle I know and love. And I see much potential in this new twist.

Kyle turns to me with a smile. "Why didn't you ever mention that you did modelling over the phone!?" he asks with another laugh.

"Well there's a lot of things we never discussed over the phone, isn't there?" I state, rather pointedly, and suddenly the mood has grown sober.

Kyle studies me now, with a rather apprehensive look on his face, and I just have to smile again. This won't do at all.

I had been wanting Stan to come up in our conversation so that I could begin to explore this twist, but it seems that Kyle is neither ready nor willing to go there just yet. And pushing things with Kyle has never really gotten anywhere other than into an argument. So...I guess I just have to be patient.

Kyle's sudden departure 3 years ago had devastated Stan. They had been inseparable for years. They were never a couple or anything, but everyone pretty much considered them one, even the adults strangely enough. Therefore the only one who had been truly surprised by Stan's actions that night ended up being Kyle. And although I would have thought 3 years to be plenty long enough to sort your feelings out, Kyle seems less than certain that he knows what he's doing here.

So I'll simply have to take a different direction with this. One thing's for certain though, I'm definitely going to get my old Stan back! Whether he likes it or not.

"Come on." I grin, getting up off the grass and grabbing Kyle's hand, pulling him up too. "Let's walk, I've got loads to fill you in on." I state with a wink, bending down to pick up Kyle's basket ball.

"I'm sure you do." Kyle smiles back rather hesitantly; obviously aware of how fast this convocation is going somewhere. He falls in step beside me as we make to leave the sporting grounds, watching me expectantly.

Hmm...where to start?

"Well, for one, Stan and Cartman aren't talking anymore!" I state as our feet hit the tree-lined pavement leading in the general direction of Kyle's old house.

**Stan. **

I have to get out of here! As soon as I'm around the corner I accelerate into a full out run. My mind is reeling and I barely notice where I am. I turn down street after street. Each breath I take tares through me like a cold rusty saw, as my chest constricts of its own accord. But I'm not going to stop. My eyes sting against the wind and my legs begin to ache.

Finally my throat becomes so dry that I can hardly breathe anymore and I stumble to a halt, bracing myself on a white picket fence. Immediately I know that stopping was a mistake as I feel the reality of the situation rapidly catching up to me, and then it slams into me full force.

"Aaaaargh!" I scream, lashing out at the closest thing and leaving a large dint in the side of a tin letter box. "Why!?" I holler at nothing and no one in particular.

Still struggling to breathe, I stagger around the corner of the fence into a small laneway and drop myself down onto a patch of grass. Why? Why has he come back? After all the time. Why did he _have_ to come back?

I never wanted to have to face this again.

"Fuck!" I curse out loud, curling my arms around my knees and resting my forehead on top. I squeeze myself uncomfortably tight, trying to still my wild heart beat and force back the sudden onslaught of old memories, but they won't stop.

I hate Kyle for this. I hate him so much. And yet I just want to...I just. I.

_Loved him more than anything else in your life. Admit it you pussy._

Whining, I release the strangle hold on my knees, breathing deeply now.

But that was a long time ago. I've moved on now. I _have_. ...even though that night 3 years ago seems like only yesterday now.

Kyle's Going-away party. The news was fairly sudden, and Clyde had offered up his house for the occasion. To say that I wasn't anxious would have been a lie, but I knew that it would take more than just a little distance to break our friendship.

I remember that night, everyone was drinking, me a little more than most perhaps. Kyle was the centre of attention, as you'd expect, and everyone wanted to be around him. I couldn't get near him all night, and so when he finally grabbed my hand and led me out back, into the relatively quieter backyard, I was in an instant state of euphoria. I remember how painfully my heart was aching, how we stood out there in the dark by the garage wall, how we talked for ages and we argued about his having to leave and how I pleaded. I remember how we agreed to spend the last 3 days he had here not leaving each other's sides, how I got all soppy and clingy and Kyle promised that we would always be Best friends, together forever, even if he moved away now. That he would come back for me. And then I remember being filled with this terrible dread, and this stupid drunk voice screaming in my head, over and over it screamed 'THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE!' ...and so there was no hesitation.

I don't even remember the kiss, or the words that I pushed on him, I just know that they happened. And that they weren't returned or appreciated, proved by the large swelling I later developed on the back of my head where it had come into contact with the concrete paving. I knew instantly how utterly I'd just fucked up, even in my alcohol filled state, and I rushed back into the house after Kyle's fleeing form.

All this pain and anger and heartache over one stupid fucking kiss! I said I was _sorry_!! You Stupid Asshole.

I never did find Kyle that night, He must have run home, but I did find Kenny, making out with some chick on the couch. He dropped that score as soon as he caught sight of my face...and I guess I never really thanked him for that. I blubbered all over him about how I'd just screwed up completely and that I didn't know what to do and that he had to help me. I'm embarrassed now just thinking back on possibly how many people at the party overheard that.

Kenny convinced me not to go racing over to his house that night to try and explain. To just leave it until tomorrow. And that everything would turn out okay. He took me home and the next thing I remember I was woken up at 8am the next morning by a loud knocking.

Seconds later Kyle had burst into my room demanding an explanation. He was pretty much pleading for me to tell him that it was all just a drunken mistake and that I really didn't have any such feelings for him. And since that was what I had been planning on telling him anyway, I'd had no problem saying so...whether I was lying through my teeth or not. I've never really been sure.

He was so relieved when I finally convinced him, and I was simply thankful that I hadn't lost him. We agreed to put it behind us, and the next 2 days that we spent basically glued to each other at the hip where the happiest in my life, or so I thought at the time.

The third morning when Kyle went home early saying that he was feeling sick I was a little dismayed that our time was being cut short. When I turned up at his house the next morning to see him off, I found the new tenants already moving in. They informed me that the Broflovski's and the last moving truck had left 4 hours ago. Kyle told me the wrong time to see him off. He was already gone.

Stupid Fucking Douche bag Kyle! I _told_ you it was a mistake! How could you let something so stupid and small ruin us? And why did you have to come back now and dig this all up again?

I slump back into my knees again and sigh. It had taken me so long to get over him, leaving me behind like that, abandoning me. He didn't even contact me once. We were _best friends_ for god sakes, didn't that mean anything to him!?

I remember it quite clearly, that day almost a year later. I had been filled with giddy butterflies as well as a sudden rage when I had over heard that the Broflovski's had just moved back into their old house. A lady at the supermarket was saying to Mr.Macky that she'd just seen Gerald unloading boxes from the truck outside their house. I had abandoned my mother at the supermarket and was out the door within a second. 10 minutes later I ran straight through the Broflovski's open front door, dodging the boxes, and taking the stairs 3 at a time. I threw open Kyle's bedroom door, not sure whether I was going to hug him or throttle him, but was stopped dead in my tracks. The room was empty. Completely empty.

I had been so confused. On the way down the stairs I ran into Mr.Broflovski, and when I asked him where Kyle was, he told me rather grimly that he and Sheila were getting divorced, and that Kyle had chosen to stay with his mother.

That was pretty much putting the cherry on top of a big 'Fuck You Stan Marsh' cake for me.

He'd had the choice to come back. And he turned it down. He turned me down.

I waited for the day when Kyle would come visit his father, but that day never came. Ike showed up, every school break, and I ashamedly admit that I badgered the young teen constantly whenever I saw him. But it never amounted to anything, so finally I gave up.

Kyle didn't set a foot in this town in 3 years...so why in Fuck is he here now? _Now_!? At the one point in my life when I don't want to see him. Those green eyes. The way he was looking at me just now, I couldn't take it.

Squizzing my fists tighter, I feel a slight pain in my left palm. Opening my hand up, I'm somewhat surprised to find that I'm still clasping onto Kenny's set of keys.

_Stuff This._

Standing up forcefully, I stride out into the street, trying to discern exactly where I've run myself to. Great, I'm now even further away from Kenny's work, where his car is parked, than I was to begin with.

Looking back in the general direction of the basketball court I left just minutes ago, I glare and come to a resolute decision.

If Kyle thinks that I'm going to forgive him, simply swallow down all that past shit and be friendly to him again just like that, he's got another thing coming!

**-Kinky-Chichi**

**AN: **I hope none of you are smarty pants enough to figure out exactly what's happening, because really, the way I'm writing it, it's meant to be a bit confusing and unclear in relation to feelings. Plus also Very point-of-view based, as in; straight from their brain, the way they think it. Sorry if this style is annoying anyone. XD i hope not.

**Please Review?**


	4. Shades of Grey

**In Love with a Memory.**

**AN:** Wow, well this chapter turned out to be a lot longer than I thought it would be. Maybe I went overboard? But I'm still glad I got to fit the Cartman stuff into this one. I'm going to have to do a Cartman POV in one of the next few chapters I'm sure.

**Shades of Grey:**

**Kyle**

As I continue to unpack some of my belonging into the recently designated guest room-formally known as my bedroom, I ask myself again "What in hell I am doing here?"

I can't say that my first day back in South Park went exactly as expected, seeing as I never really had any idea what I'm putting myself in for in the first place.

Apart from Kenny, who seems to have welcomed me with open arms, I'm still clueless as to how my return has been received.

Undoubtedly the news has spread halfway across town by now, as I've already heard 3 people come to the door to chat with my father about it, and it isn't even past noon on my second day back yet.

It's not like I've been flaunting my presence around town or anything. In fact I think I've only been seen by a handful of people so far, and so it's not surprising that the sticky beaks of this town have started dropping by to affirm the rumour already.

I'm sure that people will talk. Spread rumours. Speculate as to why I've come back. But right now there's only one opinion in town I'm concerned about, even if I'm flat out scared to face it.

I've been half expecting Stan to come bursting into the house any second all morning, having overcome his initial shock and now ready and willing to rip my head off for how crap of a best friend I turned out to be.

I regret that I hurt him so much, it was never intentional, I was just...young and...well, scared I guess.

That night, at the going-away party I rather wish had never happened, I had taken Stan out back because... plainly, He had been the one and only person I'd wanted to be with at the time. He'd had one too many drinks and I had downed a few over the course of the night myself, but that was nothing too unusual and I just wanted to hang out some more with my best friend in the whole world. Plain and simple.

Plus there was the issue of my leaving which we'd barely even discussed at that point. He had known about it for about a week. I'd known for about a month. He'd gotten really pissy at me for not telling him of the plans sooner, and he'd wasted much of that past week not even talking to me because of it. So naturally, as soon as we got around that corner wall, the discussion had started off in that direction.

Perhaps if I were in that same situation now I would be a little more suspicious. The arguing, the pleading, the alcohol, the small smiles, the sad laughter, the teary eyes, the promises. The embraces. Maybe I was just too innocent? Or maybe it was because Stan and I had always been so very close like that?

...I just never saw it coming.

When he had grabbed me and kissed me and told me that he was in love with me, I had been scared out of my wits.

Not once had I thought of him that way, and it had never even crossed my mind that he could possibly think of me like that. What do you say when your life long best friend lets out a potentially world shattering revelation like that? I mean, we had always loved each other. But that's different from being _in love, _isn't it? I had always been so very sure that it was.

And as much as I'd wanted and tried to believe him when he later argued that it had all been just a drunken mistake caused by his distress over me leaving, I had never really been fully convinced.

I could simply sense that he was lying to me.

Over the next two days that followed I had tried my very hardest to put that night behind us and forget all about it, but...I just _couldn't_. There were so many little things that he did, that I wouldn't have batted an eyelash at before, which all of a sudden were freaking me out. The small touches, the sideways glances, and how he watched me when he didn't think I could see.

With every passing hour over those last 3 days...I'd thought that I could feel Stan inching us closer and closer to where we had been on that one night. I was so scared that he was going to end up making a move again. When I look back now I realise that I was probably just being paranoid. But by my second night at his house I simply couldn't stand it anymore.

I'd come to the conclusion that Stan and I were finished. I just couldn't see at the time how I could ever come to accept or even ignore what had happened that night. Stan's actions…and what they implied. He had abruptly changed the whole mood of our relationship.

Being surrounded by Stan then, I all of a sudden didn't feel protected and secure anymore, I felt nervous and uncomfortable and it was distressing. He had always helped shelter me from such feelings, as I had him in our own little world, but suddenly he was the cause of the pain and not the cure. My little sheltered bubble of an existence was no more, and I'd felt lost, and confused, and had just needed to get away.

Back then I'd thought that the outing of Stan's feelings had come with perfect timing. I had used my moving away as a perfect excuse to run from the situation and not have to face it.

I realised later on that it had actually been extremely bad timing. If I had not have been moving away, Stan would never have revealed such feeling, whether true or alcohol induced, and I would have been able to go on being his very best friend, completely oblivious and contently that way.

However, my moving away with my family had been pretty much unavoidable, and so then... so had been Stan's actions? Maybe this whole situation was inevitable. But that still doesn't change the fact that I regret what a mess I made of it.

...I had given up on us.

And I recognise now just how selfish of an error that was.

Stan had been willing to deny his own desires, then and forever, just to keep our friendship, and I hadn't even been able to ignore my own paranoid mind and that one stupid mistake of a kiss. I really did deserve the worst best friend in the world award. He quite rightfully-

There's a knocking at the door and my heart stops.

When I don't answer, it clicks open and a ruffled head of black hair appears, followed by a pair of brown eyes and a cautious expression.

"What do you want Ike?" I ask, exasperated.

"Oh Nothing." He replies casually. "Just I've barely seen you since you got here yesterday, been half wondering whether you've gone and died up here or something." He finishes with a smirk.

"Is that all?" I inquire, trying to keep my voice calm when all I really want to do is to tell him to piss off.

"Well, No it's not actually."

I grumble and get up from where I had been kneeling on the floor sorting my belongings.

"Dad wants to know whether you'll be joining us for lunch at the table now?"

What? Don't tell me he wants a sit down family lunch every day now? I sigh

"Yeah Yeah, okay, I'm coming." I drone, placing some books on the desk and strolling past Ike out the door.

I'm a little annoyed to hear that his voice follows me as I head down the stairs.

"So, how did you're first run in with Stan go?" He asks as we enter the kitchen.

I pause and turn on him. "How do you know I've seen Stan already?" I ask sceptically.

"Uh Well, Try you've been sulking up in your room ever since you got home yesterday!"

"Shouldn't that be enough of a clue as to how it went then!?" I seethe, "...Plus I wasn't _sulking_ I was unpacking!"

"You just contradicted yourself you know"

"Shut up, I know I did, but I wasn't sulking. Okay?"

"Well, how'd it go then!?" Ike asks again and I know that he isn't going to let it rest.

"Bad." I sigh, leaning up against the kitchen counter and fiddling with a green apple from the fruit bowl. "He hates me" I add finally, choosing to look at the apple instead of Ike.

"Did he say that?"

"Well...No."

"Then how do you know that-"

"I just know OK!" I push, wanting this conversation to be over. This is definitely not the sort of stuff I want to discuss with my little brother.

"It's cos of how you ditched him after he kissed you right?"

My mouth hangs agape.

"Goddamnit! How in _hell_ do you know about that?" I demand loudly, banging the apple on the counter.

Ike looks down at the apple and raises an eyebrow before lifting his eyes back to my inevitably red face. "Kyle, I've been coming here every school break for 3 years, as if I wouldn't have found out."

Wait.

"You mean...Everyone_ knows_!?" I ask in horror and Ike laughs.

"No, not everyone knows. The boys tried to hush it up to save Stan some face, but it still managed to leak a bit."

"Great." I declare, dripping in sarcasm.

Discarding the apple and making my way into the dining room, I slump into my chair at the table and eye the plate of food dad has prepared. Raw veggies, salad and fish. It looks edible.

"I hope you boys have washed your hands?" My father asks as he enters the room and takes his seat.

"Yes dad." I answer with a lie and chomp down on a stick of celery. Ike gives me a knowing look.

What is this anyway, an attempt to be a normal family now?

"What's with the sour face?" Dad asks and I try to ignore him.

"Boy Troubles." Ike pipes in and I throw what's left of my celery stick at him, which is quickly returned.

"Hey, Hey, Hey! That's enough!" Dad exclaims, grabbing the celery from where it has landed on the table. "It's your second day here together and you're already fighting? That's not like you boys at all!"

I grumble and return to my meal.

My father turns to Ike with a questioning look and I spot my brother nodding vigorously and darting his eyes in my direction. I have the immediate urge to fling my slab of fish at him now. But I resist.

So it's Ike _and_ my father verses my personal life now is it? That's just perfect.

I finish my lunch, thank Dad for the meal and leave the table as soon as possible, retreating back up to my room.

At least Kenny will be finishing work soon. Why he'd want to work Saturday mornings I have no idea, but that's his prerogative. Anyway, he'd said last night that he would drop round again to hang out after work, and I've been trying unsuccessfully to whittle the hours away until that time.

The last thing I wanted to do when I got here was become reliant on someone. I had made a point over the last few years to be completely independent. But now, to put it bluntly...being back in South Park I suddenly feel the great need for some protection. I really am rather scared to face this alone. And so if Kenny is willing to stick by my side through this, I am going to unashamedly take that support. ...I just have to remind myself not to hide behind it.

I realise that I'll be walking a bit of a thin line here. Hanging around with Kenny is the best way to get close to Stan again, but I also have to be careful that I don't seem to be stealing Kenny away from Stan. That will only make things about 10 times worse between us. Stan's old best friend coming back into his life, only to steal his new best friend away from him!? Can you imagine, what a nightmare.

At least...I assume that Kenny and Stan are best friends. So far Kenny hasn't been forthcoming enough to actually clarify what their relationship is exactly. But there were some definite little tips in there yesterday that said that they were more than just close friends. They are definitely a lot closer than they were before I left.

Maybe...?

No. I think Kenny would have definitely told me if they were... Plus he would never be this eager to see me here now if that were the case. But there's definitely something...something strange between them. Maybe something has happened between them previously? May-

No. That's enough speculating. I'm sure Kenny will tell me soon enough. Or I'll just have to subtly drop the question into one of our convocations. Either way, does it really matter anyway? Does it?

I shake my head in loss and check the time on my bed side alarm clock. Sighing, I quickly resign to spending the next ¾ of an hour until Kenny is due to arrive finishing the reorganisation of my new old room.

And although it's not the most exciting of tasks, the next hour goes by quicker than I would have ever thought possible.

A sudden rap on the door startles me.

"C-Come in." I call, and a blond, roughly styled head of hair peeks around the door frame, followed by a devilish white grin.

"Hey Dude, what's up?" He asks gently through his smile, closing the door after him.

"Meh. Just perched on the edge of a cliff, wondering whether I dare jump or not. The usual. You?"

"Yeah….Same" He shrugs casually, and we both laugh at the absurdity.

"If you want, I can give you a push?" He teases.

"I just might need it." I finish with another laugh, as Kenny takes a seat next to me on my single bed.

I find it astounding just how comfortable I feel being around Kenny already, when really this is only our second meeting in nearly 3 years. I realised this last night. There's just something about Kenny...I don't know what it is, but...I feel like I'll never have to explain myself to him. He just takes everything in his stride and is frank and in your face and somehow that makes me feel like it would be alright to tell him everything. That's strange I know. But it feels natural to just talk with him about anything, to let your guard down, to even...well, _flirt_ with him really. It all comes so naturally that it's bordering on somewhat creepy.

Does he have this affect on everyone? Maybe I should have paid more attention to him in our younger years. I never really did get to know Kenny all that well.

"So, You ready for this!?" he asks in an upbeat tone "I'm taking you over to the basketball court again for a real game this time! All the guys from school will be there." He says with a nudge of the elbow.

"Why will everyone be there? You didn't tell them all I'd be coming did you?" I grown. I don't really want a big turnout, I'd rather not get mobbed with questions.

"Well, us guys usually like to catch up about once a week to hang out and play a game anyway, usually football though. So it's just the weekly catch up game really." He nods, and I raise my eyebrow, unconvinced.

"Okay, well maybe I told one or two people that you would be there." He admits with a grin and I push him away from me.

"Great, so it's spread by now right?" I ask and Kenny nods.

"Well I guess I would have to meet up with everyone again some time anyway." I sigh, defeated.

"Why, Is little Kylie scared to meet all his old friends?" He teases in a baby voice, and when I don't bite back he continues in a more sensible tone. "Don't worry, I'll be there. It won't be that bad." He chuckles.

"Will Stan be there?" I ask, and then feel myself redden slightly when I realise how forward I just was.

"I don't know. He might be." Kenny shrugs.

"Does he know I'll be there?" I figure that if he does, then he won't want to come. I'm unsure myself whether I want him to be there or not. But I can't avoid this forever, so I guess I...do?

"I didn't tell him, but I think he has probably figured as much." Kenny answers.

"Oh." I conclude lamely.

"It'll be fun anyways, you'll see." Kenny reassures me, swinging his legs up onto the bed and reclining out fully behind me with his arms resting behind his head.

I turn to face him and browse him up and down with a bemused look. "Well, you sure make yourself at home quickly don't you." I state with a laugh, and Kenny only grins back. "Comfortable there?" I ask to his closed eyes.

"I'm always comfortable in someone else's bed." He states very matter-of-factly, and I snort, not doubting it.

"You know," Kenny starts, opening his eyes and raising himself into a sitting position so that his face is now only 2 feet from mine. "...There's a big secret that I haven't let you in on yet." He confesses, wiggling his eyebrows and waiting for me to bite the bait.

"What is it?" I ask rather reluctantly, but still amused all the same.

"I'm Bi." He announces clearly and I snort again.

"And _that's_ a _secret_!?" I ask sarcastically, still laughing in disbelief.

Kenny pouts. "Well no, but...well it's new to you!" He finishes defensively.

"I already guessed as much." I inform him with a smile.

"Damn, am I really that obvious!? You're telling me that all this time I only_ thought _I was sly?" He asks, mocking himself and laughing.

I realise that now that we're on the topic, this would be the perfect moment to weasel out some information about Stan and Kenny's relationship. But I have to think this through and do it tactfully, there are thing I want to know, but-

"Have you and Stan ever...?" I begin but quickly realise how wrong that was going to come out. Kenny bursts out laughing and I want to smack myself in the forehead. Goddamnit, whatever happened to being subtle Kyle!?

"Me and Stan!? No-no-no-no! Nothing has ever happened between- Well actua- No, never mind. The answer is no." He finishes, still laughing.

My forehead creases. I'm not sure what the hell to make of that. Was there a hesitation there?

Kenny sees my confused look and shrugs "I've just never fancied Stan is all. I mean...Fuck, he's attractive enough, right. But..._it's_ just not there, you know? On the other han-"

"Has Stan had many relationships since I left then?" I butt in, figuring I may as well be blunt now.

Kenny looks away from me now and lays himself back down on the bed with a sigh. "He hasn't had any boyfriends if that's what you're getting at."

"Wha- no, I..."

"He's not that way...exactly. Stan. He's just...one complicated creature, that boy. Let's just leave it at that." Kenny says before closing his eyes again and stretching.

I simply sit there and blink in confusion. This is not exactly the way I'd wanted this conversation to go.

"That's not really what I meant." I hurry to explain.

"Oh I'm sure it's not," he continues now with a smile. I can taste the sarcasm and I frown down at him again. His eyes are still closed and he takes a deep breath before he continues in a much less interested tone.

"He's had a few chicks over the years, but nothing at all close to a serious relationship. He has commitment issues." Kenny admits, and then abruptly opens his eyes and pins them on mine again. I'm unable to stand it for more than a few seconds and I turn my eyes instead on the rest of my un-inhabited looking room.

"Oh..." I mumble. I'm not sure whether this is welcome news to me or not.

I feel relieved and yet somewhat disappointed as well. But more so I'm feeling perplexed over the fact that Kenny seems to be angry at me now, and I have no clear idea why. Has he suddenly realised that he shouldn't be this nice to me? Has he now remembered what a shit friend I was to Stan?

I want to change the subject now. I want to have the smiling, flirty Kenny back on my side.

"Look Kyle," Kenny starts and I jump and turn to him again. "I know what happened that one night at your going away party. I know all about what happened between you and Stan, ...and quite frankly I think the whole thing was stupidity. But the point is, with you returning to South Park now, you're wanting Stan's friendship back, am I right?"

This unexpected burst of honesty sends my mind spinning and I'm left speechless. There's only one coherent thought which forms in reply. Yeah I want Stan back.

I nod numbly in answer.

Kenny genuinely smiles now and I feel a small weight lift off my shoulders.

"As I thought. Well, I can tell you it's not going to be an easy ride. Stan is still pretty cut up about the whole thing. But don't worry, there's no avoiding the inevitable anyway! Come on!" Kenny finishes, pushing me up off the bed and getting up himself.

"What?" I ask in shock

"I'll be by your side the whole time. Don't Stress!'" Kenny answers.

"Wh- Avoiding the inevitable? That's meant to be reassuring is it? " I reply in alarm.

"My constant presence not comforting enough for you?" Kenny jokes as he tries to usher me towards the door. "Come on, we have to go now." he states, looking at his wrist watch. "All the guys will be there waiting by now."

"What? We could have left as soon as you got here! We didn't have to sit around here talking." I exclaim, not understanding his logic at all. Kenny's grin only grows wider.

"It just wouldn't do not to make a late entrance." Kenny explains as we walk down the stairs and I turn and glare up at him. "Plus then we wouldn't have had this lovely revealing talk now, would we?"

I can't believe him. I just... He... I am so out of my league here.

Letting out a growl in frustration, I follow him out the front door. All feeling of annoyance fades however, as I catch site of the car parked by the curb which Kenny is walking towards. My eyes widen.

It's a bright orange mustang with black stripes running across its full length.

You've got to be joking.

"Kenny! Is that-?"

"Yep!" he turns to grin at me and rests his arm on the hood. "It's Farmer Joes old bomb. Remember that day back in junior high when I spotted the old rusted out beauty out on his ranch and said that one day she'd be mine?"

"Yeah, but I didn't exactly take you seriously." I gape at the chrome bumper and rims.

"She had way too much potential to let her rust out by that shed." Kenny explains, his hand stroking the line following the top of the door. "This car was the first real thing I bought after I'd earned a bit of money. Of course I spent way more on fixing her up than I did buying her from Joe, he was basically happy to have the old thing taken off his hands." He laughs. "Well...Come on, let's go."

Kenny climbs into the car and I walk around and hop into the passenger seat next to him. He revs up the engine, and even though I admit that I'm not big on cars, it sounds pretty damn hot to me.

It's less than a 5 minute drive to the sporting grounds, and the trip goes by much quicker than I am ready for.

I realise as we turn a final corner that we are now only 2 blocks from the basketball court. Only 2 blocks from facing all my old school friends, from this encounter I've been dreading, _from Stan_. My chest constricts in slight panic and I wonder if I'm at all ready for this.

We pull up into the gravel car park and I can see already that a group of at least half a dozen figures have paused and are watching from the court as this obnoxiously orange car comes to a stop in one of the many empty spaces.

Whatever they were doing beforehand, playing a game or just chatting, the activity appears to have abruptly ceased now, and I'm finding it very hard to get up the nerve to even open the car door. There are so many eyes on us.

Kenny gets out beside me and I try not to think too much as I reach for my own door handle and step out of the car myself.

It's going to be fine. Just stay cool. Don't be nervous. And whatever happens, don't lose your head.

As we walk over the small embankment toward the court the group starts to move towards us and I try to note who's here.

I see that Clyde and Craig have returned from yesterday, accompanied now by Token, as the group of three move in our direction first. I spot Butters next, who hasn't changed one bit, and Tweek as well. I'm less than pleased to notice Cartman near the back of the group, and then my eyes fall on the last person on the court.

Stan hasn't moved from his original spot as everyone else moves towards us. I vaguely notice Craig give a greeting as he reaches us, and I'm clapped on the back by Token, but I continue to look directly over the approaching group at the now lone figure. Stan simply stares straight back and it's only when my attention is momentarily diverted by Clyde nudging me in the side that our gazes part. When I look back over Stan has turned away and is now bouncing the basketball towards the ring.

"So, I heard from these guys here that you are back in town for good." Token comments, indicating towards Craig and Clyde who both grin. "Tell me it's not true right?" He laughs "What would you want to come back to this shit hole for?" he jokes and I laugh.

"Well it's half true." I reply, smiling and browse everyone's faces, as I'm aware they're all listening in for my answer. "I'm just taking a bit of a break here, a holiday of sorts. Probably just for a few months though."

"Ah, you just couldn't stay away from us could you?" Craig butts in, putting his arm around my shoulder.

"Get off him." Clyde and Kenny sing out in unison as Clyde pulls me away from Craig.

"He's only been here for one day. Jesus!" Kenny finishes and everyone laughs at a joke I apparently don't get.

"So where are you staying then Kyle?" Butters asks uncertainly and I just have to smile.

"Just in my old house, with my dad, and Ike whenever he has school brake." I answer and Butters smiles back.

"Jeeze, it's all got to be very exciting for you." He laughs nervously.

"It'd be too much pressure for me!" Tweek pipes in with a twitch.

"You realise you're the new talk of the town now, right?" Token says, rolling his eyes and pointing at Craig and Clyde again. "These idiots here were both calling me nonstop last night to make sure I would come back to town this weekend to see you. Sorry about that, you should just ignore them really. I think being stuck in this small town is getting to their heads already. They seem to think that this weekend is going to _go off _now that you're here."

"What?" I ask, half laughing. This is a joke right?

"Yeah man! You're so coming out with us to celebrate this." Clyde pipes in next to me. "We'll show you one hell of a night!" he grins.

"Hey! Hey! I'll be the one showing him round thank you!" Kenny contests as he comes to stand between Clyde and I. I'm feeling like a bit of a yo-yo here. "Besides, I work at GroundZero. It's great, you'll love it there Kyle." He reassures me.

"But I'm not 21 yet-" I rebuff

"Na, that's not a problem dude. I'll take care of that. Don't worry." Kenny insists

"Sweet. GroundZero tonight it is! And then party back to my place afterwards!" Craig cheers, and a few people join him.

"At your place? After the _last_ time?" Clyde asks sceptically and everyone but me laughs.

"Na, it'll be sweet dude, you'll see." He promises me, and I bite back on the urge to tell everyone that I'm not really into drinking anymore.

"As I said," Token hisses next to me, "It's small town fever. And they wonder why I up and moved out?" he asks and we both laugh.

Dear god, this is going to be a long day.

"Ah," Token's eyes focus on a point somewhere over my shoulder. "Looks like our final player is here." He comments, and we all turn to see.

"Thomas!" Craig calls and bounds away from the group.

Thomas? I look up to see a blond guy jogging towards us and I immediately recognise him.

Jesus, It's tourettes Thomas, I haven't had a thought on him in _years_. He was never really a part of our larger group, seeing as he didn't go to school with any of us and Craig seemed to really be the only one who had ties with him. However, he was always popping in and out of our scene, a small get together here, a party there, and I happen to remember that he's a really great guy...once you get over his little...affliction.

I laugh as I see him recoil slightly from Craig's over enthusiasm and then blast out a string of obscenities at him where a greeting was obviously meant to go. Craig never seemed to mind that much though.

"Sorry I'm- _Cock!- _Late guys!" He puffs as he reaches us, and I try not to laugh again. "Hockey Practice ran over time. Hope you weren't waiting on me!?" He finishes and I hate that I'm consciously counting the swear words already.

"It's no problem really" Token reassures him. "We've been hounding Kyle here with questions for the last 10 minutes anyways." He rolls his eyes again and we all smile.

Thomas greets me with a friendly handshake and comments on my being back in town, in between the curses, and soon the questions have started up again.

This goes on for a couple more minutes before I start to get tired of everyone's eyes being on me. I'm not really comfortable being the centre of attention like this. And the longer this verbal mugging goes on the more it seems that Stan is getting frustrated over there.

At first he was getting most of his shots in. But now he's getting barely any, as most of them bounce violently off the ring or the back board.

I wonder what he could be thinking right now?

Looking away from Stan, I focus again on the words Clyde is speaking.

I've been glancing over at Stan as little as possible over these last few minutes, but that still comes to a total of about 20 times so far. A few of the guys have been giving me what look like knowing looks when I switch back from looking at Stan, and a few of them have been turning and glancing over at him as well. Maybe I'm being paranoid, but the signs seem to say that they all know about what has happened between me and Stan, which makes me a little more nervous.

I'm just glad that no one seems to want to be the one to bring it up.

I want to walk over to Stan right now. As much as I'm scared of it, I want the confrontation to happen now, because I want us to get back to being normal as soon as possible. And I don't want Stan to be left out like this. I glance over at him again.

"So, are we going to play a game or what!?" I ask the group as a whole, breaking off their questioning and smiling, indicating towards the closet hoop.

"Hell Yeah." Clyde answers and most others nod or voice in agreement.

Kenny turns to Stan now.

"Stan! Get up here. We're going to start." He calls.

"About time." Stan replies, dribbling the ball right past me without so much as a look and handing it to Kenny.

I just happen to turn my eyes on Cartman at this moment. I'd almost forgotten was here, he's been so quite. I note as he switches from watching Stan's movements to looking straight at me. He raises his eyebrows and smiles at me then, and I scowl back at whatever he may be implying before turning away.

Okay, so maybe Stan's still a little bitter, but...it will all turn out alright soon, I'm sure. I just have to be patient, and find the right time to approach this. That's all.

I join the group where they have gathered around Kenny.

"Ok, so how're we going to do this? Well 5 to a side obviously, bu-"

"Can we have two people sitting off?" Butters pipes in. "You know, for if someone gets tried, they can swap and take a rest?"

"What?" I ask with a laugh. And Kenny groans.

"Aw, come on guys, give Butters a break." Cartman complains.

"Just because you can't play a whole game without having a heart attack, tubby." Clyde calls and Cartman swears back at him.

"Fine Butters. Ok, 4 to a side plus 1 spare each." Kenny answers, and rolls his eyes slightly when Butters is no longer looking.

"Who's going to pick the teams?" Kenny asks the group.

"Kyle should pick one." Clyde puts in and everyone nods in agreement.

I try to turn the place down, but no one is having it.

Thomas is eventually chosen to head the second team, pushed mostly by Craig, and suddenly I'm faced with the very dilemma I had been dreading.

"Okay Kyle, you pick first." Kenny says, and he gives me a wink which confuses me even more.

Oh Crap.

I can't help it. My eyes turn straight to Stan. He has always been my first choice.

Can I pick him first now? What's he going to think if I do? Is that the right thing to do? Or is that being way too presumptuous? We're not even on friendly terms at this point. But what's it going to imply if I don't pick him?

Fuck, I'm so screwed.

And the worst part is that I can feel myself turning red as everyone watches me fuddle over this. God, I must be so obvious.

Do I dare pick Stan? Or do I dare _not_ pick him? Kenny would be the safer option. Stan or Kenny? Kenny or Stan? Kenny? Stan? Kenny? Stan?

"K-Kenny." I stutter out finally and right away regret making that last second decision. What the fuck? I should have just gone with it and picked Stan first. What's wrong with me?

Kenny comes to stand beside me and whispers in my ear as Thomas sighs and makes Craig his first choice. "You were meant to pick Stan first, you idiot." He informs me and I hiss back that I know.

I pick Stan next, because as well as knowing that I should have chosen him first, I realise that if I don't end up picking him at all, I really will be screwing myself over. Big time.

Stan shows very little emotion over my decision, and I can't deny that I'm disappointed; I had been hoping at least to get a small smile back. He comes to stand next to Kenny and not me. This really isn't turning out well already, I'm going to have to hurry up and do something to turn his mood around and soon. I can't stand having Stan hate me for too much longer.

Within a few more seconds I have Token and Butters on my team also, and we are ready to start the game. Butter sits off first, as does Tweek for the other team.

The game begins and instantly it is fast paced and tough. I haven't really played a competitive game of basketball since I finished high school, and I'd almost forgotten how much I loved it, especially being a forward. Up and down the court we move, from one possession to another, and I note how good both Clyde and Token are. I'm glad that I picked at least one of them for my team, or else we might well be getting our asses kicked already.

It's only a couple of minutes in and I'm having a blast. I've shot a 2 pointer already and I suddenly feel like...I belong. I don't feel new or like an outsider. It feels as if I never even left. I want this game to never end.

Stan's been passed the ball and I'm open. I'm clear and I know I can make another shot from here. He turns to me and I beckon with a wide smile. Stan's facial expression changes then and he turns and passes the ball to Token instead.

My feeling of elation is shattered.

What the hell? I was open ...and Token wasn't! That was a stupid move and now Clyde has the ball and is making off in the other direction with it. I mean...I thought that Stan would at least put the bitterness aside for the sake of the game?

It only takes me a few more minutes to realise that Stan is not going to pass to me at all. I feel...lost. What in hell am I meant to do with this? I have to fix it.

I try my hardest to make as many passes to Stan as possible, smiling as I do so in the hopes that he will feel closer as a team and return the open camaraderie, but no. He keeps on ignoring me. I go on trying to stay closer to him, trying to make eye contact with him, trying to include him as much as possible even if it's obviously not what's best for the game. But after being denied yet another clear pass from him, I feel utterly defeated.

I just can't win.

"Butters, you're in." I call as I walk off the court, wiping the sweat off my brow.

"Oh Jeezus." Butters exclaims as he jumps up off the low brick wall he'd been sitting on with Tweek and joins in the game.

I take a seat on the wall with Tweek, but leave some distance between us because I'm no longer in the mood to talk. I'm relieved when he doesn't attempt to start up a conversation at all.

Brooding over my options on what I can possible do to make Stan stop this disconcerting cold-shoulder treatment he's giving me, I am suddenly shaken from my inner thoughts by a loud voice nearby.

"You're on Tweek" I hear and immediately recognise the voice. How could I not?

Looking up I see as Cartman shoos Tweek onto the court. He watches until Tweek is in the game playing, and then he turns on me.

His eyes pin onto mine and I impulsively look away. Immediately I change my mind, turning directly back and staring him down instead. I have no bloody reason to be coy with _him_!

I note, as he walks towards me with a slight smile on his lips, that in 3 years he hasn't changed all that much. He has grown maybe an inch taller I think, and he's broadened out in the shoulders, I'd classify him more as...chunky now, rather than tubby like he was as a younger teenager. But other than that, and a slight change in wardrobe style, he's not much different at all.

"Hey." He says as he sits down next to me.

"What do you want?" I spit out in an instinctively venomous tone.

Cartman looks shocked. "What? Cant I start up a nice conversation with an old friend?" He asks in a mockingly innocent voice.

"We are not friends." I counter back.

"Now that's no way to treat someone who's just trying to be welcoming." Cartman replies and I turn to him and give him a suspicious look. Whatever he's playing at, I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of reacting to him. If I just continue to act indifferent then he'll soon get tired of it.

"You seem down." Cartman states observantly, and I can't help myself.

"Do I?" I ask sarcastically.

"Well yeah, as if it isn't half obvious, Jew" He says with a laugh. "Something in town is definitely bothering you." He nods.

Turning to directly face Cartman I scowl but stay silent, resisting the urge to say 'yeah, YOU!'

"Now, what in all of South Park could have possibly gotten you down so quickly!?" Cartman singsongs. And I can see exactly where he's going with this now.

"Piss Off" I Growl. Goddamn it, why did I have to reply? WHY?

"I can't really see you having any problems with your dad or brother." He carries on without faltering. "Not now that your bitch of a mother is out of the picture. No... It can't be Kenny; he's been all over you like a school girl with a new puppy. And we've both seen that Craig and Token and all of your other old school chums here have eagerly greeted you back into their midst, All seems well. Why, Even _I've_ come over here to greet you. Now...whooooo's left?-"

"Stop patronising me you fat fuck!" I bark.

"Ah. I should have known." Cartman continues calmly, eyeing the court with a smile.

"DON'T even go _there_." I growl.

There's a moment of silence, in which I am glaring daggers at him.

...followed by another one.

Wow.

I crease my brow in bewilderment.

It seems that my threats have actually worked. Cartman just looks out at the game...and he's not continuing. I watch him, confused, and then follow his eyes out onto the court. The game is going on as normal, and it seems that my team isn't doing so well now, with Butters in my place. I see him stuff up an easy shot.

"He's changed, hasn't he." Cartman's voice is suddenly quieter and more serious.

My first instinct is to tell him to shut the hell up, as I was so hoping he wasn't going to continue. But then his words sink in.

What?

"Wh...what the hell are you talking about?" I ask, not wanting to jump to conclusions.

"Before you left he used to be cool, by far the most acceptable of the lot of you." Cartman begins and then pauses, still looking out at the game. "...But he's changed now."

I hesitate. "...You're talking about Stan!?" I ask, unsure.

"I saw you out there, all those moves you made, trying to get back into his good books. It was bloody obvious what you were doing. I'm telling you now, I wouldn't bother. He's not the same person as he used to be." He nods again in Stan's direction and I have nothing to say to that.

Could it be true?

"He turned into a giant weeping pussy after you left him, of course." He informs me and I wince. "It took Kenny nearly a year to pull him fully out of that, which was a complete _mistake_. I would rather have kept Emo Stan instead of that pathetic piece of crap you see over there now. Now all he does is follow Kenny's every footstep, he can't do anything independent of Kenny, he practically wants to be him. It's just SAD. He's just a fucking douche now! He's got his own head so far up Kenny's ass. He's a stuck up wannabe with no ball-"

"Don't talk about Stan like that!" I snarl, clenching my firsts.

I just know Stan can't be like that. It's bullshit.

Cartman snorts.

"You know," He says, turning to me. "You haven't changed one bit Kyle." He smiles, and I falter briefly because it actually seems...genuine? There's not even a trace of malice in it.

"Oh and I suppose you have!?" I counter, smirking back.

"Maybe I have, maybe I haven't." He taunts.

"Funny, to me it seems like you're still the same foul mouthed asshole you always have been." I accuse, but for some reason I'm still smiling.

"I'm only that way now with the few people who piss me off most." He explains, glancing out at the game once more.

"Hm...and I'm not one of the people who piss you off most anymore?" I question with a wily grin "I have noticed that throughout this whole conversation so far you've only _mildly_ insulted my Jewish ancestry. That's rather impressive, you must be really holding back." I put forward and Cartman only shrugs.

"Hmph. Well, after you left, I found other things to occupy my time with, other little projects, new people to harass." He states simply.

"Ha. I'm sure you did" I support with a laugh.

"What's so funny about that?" He asks with an amused glare.

"I suppose you are going to go straight back to harassing me and my people again now that I'm back?" I can't help but ask as I smirk and raise an eyebrow.

Cartman shrugs again but he's grinning now. "I might...I might not. Would it bother you if I didn't, Jew?" He teases.

"It just might." I smile back.

I look into Cartman's eyes for moment and then my previous words hit me.

I almost convulse.

OH DEAR GOD. Was I...were Cartman and I just..._flirting_!?

No-no-no NO! Definitely not. No way. That's just...

I shudder involuntarily.

Jumping up suddenly from the wall, I decide I have to join in the game again. I have to get away from this wacko conversation, before it gets any stranger. Flirting? With CARTMAN? This is not a change I'm at all comfortable with.

Butters catches my eye from on the court and I discreetly try to indicate that I want to get back on. He gladly obliges and I try to get back into playing mode as quickly as I can, even though my mind is now even more preoccupied than it had been before I went off.

The game only lasts a few more minutes, and Thomas's team ends up winning by only 2 points. Surprisingly I'm not all that disappointed.

"I demand a rematch!" Kenny declares. "Same time same place, next week!" He hollers rather over-dramatically, and most of the guys simply smile and shake their heads at his antics.

"Yeah yeah. Next week, as always." Clyde replies.

"And we'll kick your asses again, as always." Craig finishes and the two high-five.

"Whatever you reckon." Token snorts.

"You'd better come again next week," I smile at Token "Or else they really will kick our butts again." I comment.

"Well our chances weren't really helped by you sitting out for half the game." He counters quietly and I fight not to blush.

"I guess I'm just not quite used to playing competitively anymore." I try to shrug off, but I'm pretty sure that no matter how I put it, Token will not be convinced that the reason I went to sit off was because I was puffed.

He smiles at me and gives me a pat on the shoulder. "Well, you'd better get some practice in before next time then." He suggests, giving me a long look before joining in the argument Craig and Kenny are having.

Jesus, He so saw how frustrated I was getting over Stan actions. Maybe Cartman was right? Maybe I was being disgustingly obvious?

I groan at my own stupidity and utter hopelessness.

And the worst part of all this awkwardness is that Stan and I still haven't even spoken a word to each other in nearly 3 years. For all the good I've done so far I may as well never have come back, all I've accomplished is dragging up all these old feelings and making Stan in a bad mood.

I can't stand the thought of a second day going by without a single word passing between us. If I let it go on like this...it may well be that we never talk to each other again, and I don't think I could stand to stay in South Park like that.

I have to at least say something to him today before we part.

The group goes on chatting for a while, and I keep on day dreaming all the way through it. They've for the most part stopped hounding me with questions, and so I'm not broken from my thoughts too often.

The only person I'm vaguely paying attention to is Stan. Out of the corner of my eye I watch him as he doesn't contribute to the conversation at all. I'm fighting so very hard not to look directly at him, even for just a second. The urge to check just how he's doing, whether he's smiling or frowning or even paying attention at all, is so strong. But I must resist it.

I'm dragged from my thoughts however by a movement from Stan, and I look up abruptly to see him take the ball from Kenny's hands and slips out of the group, walking slowly towards the far hoop instead.

I watch him go, and suddenly realise that now would be the opportune moment to talk with him alone. Over there no one is going to be able to over hear us.

I'm going to take my chance.

Slipping out of the group myself, I hope that I'm going unnoticed as I walk nervously over to the other end of the court.

He has his back turned to me and is bouncing the ball slowly towards the hoop, though with no obvious intention to shoot for the basket.

"Stan?" I ask cautiously as I near him.

He fuddles the ball slightly and I wince at the fact that I caused him such surprise. However, he regains his composure and hold on the ball quickly and turns on me with a glare.

"What?" he asks simply in an annoyed tone, and I'm suddenly at a loss.

"I- ...uh" struggling for words, I falter.

Fuck. What in hell was I planning to say to him anyway? I have to apologise. I have to tell him how I feel. I have to say that I'm sorry. I want to tell him that I need his friendship back more than anything. That I want him back. That I made the worst mistake of my life by leaving him behind like that. That I'm willing to do anything. But all of these things sound absolutely absurd when I go to voice them.

...and so I don't.

"I'm- I was just wondering if you'll be coming out with us tonight?" I blurt out and immediately think what a pathetic save that was.

Stan stares at me for a moment with a not too impressed look on his face before he answers.

"I don't know." He replies, turning away from me now, bouncing the ball a few times and shooting for the ring. "I haven't decided yet." He finishes, sounding very uninterested.

"You should come." I venture tentatively as Stan retrieves the ball. I'm not exactly sure where I'm going with this, I just want to keep it going _somewhere_. "You know...it could be fun?" I finish lamely.

"_Like old times,_ You're meant to say." Stan spits out bitterly, walking straight past me and shoving the ball into my hands.

Oh crap. I ruined it somehow. I can't let this interaction just end like this.

"Stan!?" I call loudly and he pauses and turns back to face me.

"I'm- I'm Sorry." I rush out. I can feel myself blushing red, and I wait breathlessly for him to reply.

"You should be." He answers and walks off again.

I'm speechless.

I simply watch as he walks up past the group, says a few quick words to Kenny, and then stalks off.

He's leaving?

I gradually make my way back to the group, and try to ignore some of the surreptitious looks I'm getting from the others. Nevertheless, they continue their convocation as normal, and I'm glad for that.

"Well that went well." I hear a quiet voice in my ear and I jump.

Fuck! Urgh. Cartman.

I recoil from him quickly. "He just needs time is all." I insist stubbornly.

"I told you he's changed." Cartman replies, shaking his head in mock grief and I scowl at him as we distance our selves a ways from the group.

"He hasn't changed." I counter, though my words do nothing to reassure myself. "I would still be pissed off at me too." I admit sadly.

"You'll see. He's not worth the bother." Cartman persists and I get annoyed.

"You're just bitter because when Kenny started being best friends with Stan you were shoved aside. You're just jealous. Kenny told me ALL about that story!" I poke at his chest.

Cartman's expression goes strained and he glares me straight in the eye. I can see a true argument pending, _bring it on_ I think as I wait to for his reply. But he blinks then and his eyes fall down to the ground instead.

"...You're right. I am bitter." He admits and I'm visibly shocked. "Kenny was mine... just as Stan was yours. And I wasn't too pleased to become outcast like that."

What the hell? Since when did Cartman express his true feelings like this? The Cartman I knew would have denied my accusations in a heartbeat.

"I guess we're in the same boat, you and I." He continues softly, unsurely, and I am too shocked by the thought to even argue at that point.

His words play over and over in my head.

_I guess we're in the same boat, you and I. – we're in the same boat, you and I. – the same boat – you and I._

I wait for Cartman to continue, to try and list out all the ways in which our situations are similar, to which I could easily argue to prove that we're not.

...But he doesn't add any more. He just leaves it at that and turns back to join in the group's banter.

Cartman and I just _can't_ be the same. Our situations are completely different. We're not alike in the slightest...are we?

I'm distracted briefly by Butters and Tweek saying their goodbyes.

"See you guys here next week!" Butters calls as they leave.

"I think I'd best get going too." I hear Cartman voice beside me and I turn on him quickly.

"Guess I might see you all out later tonight then?" He addresses the group and then turns to me and smiles.

I'm still completely freaked out by how...strange Cartman has been acting towards me today, and I nod uncertainly in reply. Do I even want to see him later?

He gives a half wave to the group and then walks off towards the car park. As I watch him go I can't help but start thinking.

Back when he lost Kenny to Stan, could he have felt the same way as I do now?

Just as lost? Just as alone? Just as confused?

No way. This is Cartman we're talking about here. CARTMAN.

But then again-

I think back to how he has been acting today, even though I am still completely suspicious of him and don't truly trust a word he has said. ...I still can't help but wonder.

Maybe...is it possible that Cartman has changed?

It _has_ been 3 whole years. And by the sounds of it from what Kenny has told me, he has been through a lot of crap times- though they weren't due to no fault of his own.

...but is that really all that different from my situation though? My current circumstances with Stan are predominately my fault after all.

Maybe…we are the same?

Urgh! But we're so very ridiculously different! It's impossible.

Sighing, I realise that I'm just digging myself a hole here, and instead of pondering on it any further, I shake my head and watch as Cartman gets into his car and drives off.

It's funny though I admit.

I'd always thought of Cartman as so very Black and White.

But...maybe I was wrong?

**-Kinky-Chichi**

**AN: **Man, my Kyle's a bit moody isn't he!? XDDDD ……**Please Review?**


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